So have I explained on here that I'm going to Pennsic?



Yeah, it's 2 weeks of pseudo-medieval camping and i need garb.
So I've had a crash course in sewing.
And I've been aiming for this approximate look:

or perhaps this:

(The latter has good construction notes so I can copy it better. Her English is better too.)

Anyway. I'm midway through a very complicated kirtle with a waist seam and front lacing, and the bodice is all boned and supportive, and I still have to put the skirt onto it and maybe make some sleeves.

I took a break today to do something simpler. An apron, maybe. I had a biggish square of white cotton fabric I was going to hem on both sides and then sew, I wasn't quite sure into what.

What happened?
I am just going to copy-paste an email I wrote to my mom to explain it. My mother, incidentally, is a veteran re-enactor and costumer, and was married in 18th-century garb to my father-- they met doing Revolutionary War re-enactments at the bicentennial. So she knows about this stuff. I don't think she's as retarded as me though. Ever.


Subject: EXTREME COSTUMING
I managed to put the needle of my sewing machine straight through my left index finger today, so my progress on getting my garb sewn has slowed.
I had a tetanus shot sometime in college, didn't I? Then I should be fine. I remember getting one as an adult but what sort of adult I don't recall. I've now been an adult long enough that this matters, damn it.

I broke the needle, too. Bah. I needed to change it anyway. Fortunately I had the presence of mind to yank it out of my finger before the shock wore off, so it didn't hurt. It hardly hurts now, but I think it's going to take a long time for this hole in my fingernail to close up. It must have missed the bone, or it wouldn't have gone all the way through. Or if it had, I wouldn't have been able to yank it out with my teeth! (I couldn't get a grip with my fingers-- my right hand isn't as strong anyway.)

I was doing really well at the whole "sewing" lark, too. But I think I'll be hand-sewing things for a little while until I get my nerve back (and, er, get a new needle). It BIT me! And I wasn't even doing anything fiddly-- I was hemming a straight double-folded hem in a piece of cotton that I'd ironed the hem into beforehand (seriously, it was a giant square that I was hemming preparatory to making an apron out of it, while on a break from a very complicated kirtle with a boned bodice)-- this is the first time I'd actually bothered pressing something the way you're supposed to when you're trying to sew something folded over!
Bah, that'll teach me to do things the right way.


I think I've learned my lesson about putting needles in my skin, too.

Your repentantly body-pierced daughter,

-- B.




I didn't tell her that I was so fucking hung-over from the 4th of July pool party I went to last night that I couldn't sit up straight, which probably contributed to the incident.

I wonder how many people go to the ER for hangover-related injuries, compared to those that just hurt themselves while drunk?

I think I'll skip the ER. I wish I had health insurance, though. Just in case.
Oh well.

Oh I forgot now, duh, to post photos of my baby nephew. So here is a link to some cute photos of my baby nephew, who is six months old now.

In photostream-- just keep scrolling to see more.

I have just discovered Subversive Cross Stitch and want very badly to make him a bib that says "I (heart) Boobs" on it.
Suddenly I am filled with a desire to be crafty and *make stuff*. Weird. Runs in the family, though. The most recent photos I uploaded were of a relative's needlework sampler from 1808.

Anyway. Hillary from my team (Rachel) hasn't posted here in forever buy says she's bummed to have missed all the recent parties and we must let her know when the next one is.
When is the next one, anyway?

I have not been up to much of late. Trying to learn to sew. I give up on finding bras that fit me. I am trying to make a self-supportive dress bodice using cable ties and hemp cord and about eight layers of cotton, but so far it's just been a slog. We'll have to see how it goes. None of you are accomplished tailors, are you?
Phooey. This is hard. My stupid boobs, I'm so tired of them.

Well. This has been a boring entry. Sorry about that. Maybe soon I'll have photos of myself in a corset to post. Ha ha. Don't hold your breath.

However, I will leave you with another vintage porn shot, since I had so much fun posting those before.


I admit, I have a much better grasp on how historic undergarments really worked than I ever did before. Who says this stuff isn't educational?

I finally uploaded photos of London, because now I have photos of my baby nephew to upload and figured, I can't do them out of order, so London first.
Sorry this took so long-- was finishing up with derby, then out of town traveling. Now I'm back in Buffalo and plan to just take June and set my life into order. Hopefully that means things will be sane and normal and organized around here for a little while. Let's see how that works out.

The photos are uploaded at Flickr, because there it's easy to caption and you can display them bigger.
Here's the link to the whole photostream. Enter at the linked-to picture, and then scroll to the right in the photostream (click on the thumbnail of the next picture and it will display it and roll you along-- in case anyone's not familiar with Flickr, sorry I just had to explain it to my folks, so I'm in Explanation Mode.)




Coming very soon: photos of my baby nephew David.

(I officially have Too Many Daves in my life.)

OK. Got my makeup on, my contacts in, am lightly sprinkled with gold glitter. Have my uniform on. Didn't have time to sew on the last big gold star for the last bout I was in. (I mark my bouts like bombing runs on my skirt, with bigger stars for the victories and red stars for the bouts where I wasn't a Knockout.) That's OK. It's lucky.
Got my fishnets on, over my opaque dance tights. (I've seen third-degree fishnet burns. Nobody wants that.)
Got my skate wheels cleaned, changed out my busted skate laces.

Winner takes all tonight.



(Anyone still thinking of coming... 101 Oliver St., North Tonawanda, doors at 6:30.)

Did y'all see me on the news, incidentally???? Friday night! I'll embed another video while I'm doing this. Yay!

The 2008 roller derby season of the Queen City Roller Girls ends on Saturday. The winner of that bout will take the league championship, as well-- just by coincidence, the two teams scheduled for that final bout ended up in a dead heat.

Following is a rough draft of a post I'm working on that I'll probably never put anywhere else. I'm just posting it here because my math processes when I'm slightly ahem not sober are pretty entertaining. But read it if you're interested for a different perspective on the end of this roller derby season. I get pretty cheesy by the end, but it's true.
________________

This is the culmination of nine months of work for most of us. The beginners, and those of us veterans who felt we had a whole lot of improvement to do, have been training fairly intensively since August of last year. I was out of town for much of August, so I didn't really get back into the swing of training hard until September.
I average around 8 hours of training a week. (It's often more, when you add in the extracurriculars like walks, bike rides, weightlifting in the basement, and Mia's Workout Class of Doooom, which she explained burns about 1500 calories on average. That starts up again in September, we're pretty sure. And she'll be making appearances at the gym over the summer, usually unscheduled substitutions for other instructors. But then, sometimes I go out of town or take a break. So it's hard to say really.) Two or three two-hour practices, sometimes a fourth two-hour practice, occasionally an hour or two at open skate, and the workout classes. Most weeks it's 10 hours, some weeks it's as little as 6 hours.
Times however many weeks it's been since the beginning of September.
By my admittedly terrible math, that's like... 39 weeks.
Minus the week I was in London, wherein I only practiced 2 hours (and schlepped my gear 4,000 miles, a whole suitcase to itself)... and Christmas... sure. We'll say 35 weeks.
Times 8 hours.
420.
(Aside: What a remarkable coincidence! Never mind. Anyway.)

And there are twenty girls on my team who've put in similar time commitments. Plus two coaches. (A skater's brother, who used to coach youth hockey, and a former rink employee, who coached his own kids to the speed skating national team repeatedly. Both unpaid.)
Then there's the other team, which I think numbers like 14 plus 2 coaches. They've, well, I can't speak for their hours because a lot of the hours, above, were spent with my team, but we'll just say they all probably put in a comparable amount.
And we pay to do this. We pay $40/month in dues, per skater. Plus we buy our own equipment and uniforms. And merch: any of us wearing an item with a logo on it, purchased said item at the same price as a fan would.
We pay half what we collect in admissions to our venue.
We donate a dollar from every ticket we sell to whichever charity is our charity that month.

It costs you $15 to get in. You're seeing the results of over 13,000 hours of unpaid labor. Plus you get to buy beer at reasonable North Tonawanda prices. And girls show you their underwear and hit you in the shins really hard with skate wheels.

We're trying to have comfier accomodations next season. We'll put on an expanded schedule and bout teams from other leagues and other cities, who may well kick our ass or actually injure us. We are busting our asses to get ourselves into WFTDA (http://www.wftda.org), bringing in an observer from the Class A-rated Ohio Rollergirls to give us a reference after this bout. We are trying to get into the national scene. We'll give you an amazing show for your money.

We just need support to finish out this season. Our attendance peaked at near-sellout-capacity early in the season, and has been tapering off. We improved the venue. It's comfy now. There are better seats. And more of them. There are better toilets, and more of them.
We need money for our travel team; some of our best skaters are not going to be able to join the team because they can't afford the extra cost of an additional uniform, more travel, and an extended dues-paying season.

This is hard. This is grassroots. This is amateur. This is, as I mentioned, over 13,000 hours of unpaid labor, not counting the support staff. (For example, the 40+ hours (e:zobar) spent hand-coding our new scoreboard, which he donated.)

Yes it's fun. But it's a damn lot of hard work.

We need recruits for next season. We need new skaters. We can't promise you it'll always be fun. But we can promise you that it'll be like nothing you've ever done. And on the whole, you'll know pretty quickly whether it's going to be worth it for you.
______________________________
...
There's a good chance I won't make the squad for this final bout. If that doesn't happen, I will be in costume. You don't want to miss this costume; I promise it's better than any other one I've ever worn. But if I am skating, then I promise you I also am better than you've seen before and I am determined to do something better than falling dramatically for the highlight reel. (That makes every promo reel, incidentally-- that fall from January-- it was pretty impressive.)

Anyway. I'm excited, and am excited for it to be over, because I'm not one who deals well with antici.... pation. I've never won anything before this season, and am still totally not sure what to do with it. Our coach wants us to just have faith and believe, and I just don't know how.

So this is the end of about 420 hours of work for me. This is the payoff. The payoff may consist of shrieking myself hoarse while wearing a really elaborate hairdo. (I can't tell you what the costume was going to be! It's a secret! But look at the poster for this bout and you might get an idea. If you come to the bout, by the way, you get much love from me; if you come in costume, you get more respect than I can easily enumerate in text format.)
But whatever the payoff is-- skating or costume, winning or not-- it's totally been worth it.